


A Father Remembers

by Marblez



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can still remember the first time I laid my eyes on him, an ugly little thing, covered in who knew what from his entrance into the world, screaming his new lungs out, waving his little fists and kicking out with legs not yet strong enough to hold him. He's never been more beautiful to me than he was in that moment. My first-born. My eldest son...</p>
<p>(Originally Posted on fanfiction.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Father Remembers

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I am merely borrowing them.

A Father Remembers.

I can still remember the first time I laid my eyes on him, an ugly little thing, covered in who knew what from his entrance into the world, screaming his new lungs out, waving his little fists and kicking out with legs not yet strong enough to hold him. He's never been more beautiful to me than he was in that moment. My first-born. My eldest son.

I held his hands as he learned to stand and I picked him up every time he fell as he learned to walk, then to trot and then finally to run. Once he'd mastered the art of running there had been no stopping my strong little boy, the strongest of all the centaur children and the most likely to get himself in trouble whether it be pulling a trick on someone he shouldn't or going somewhere dangerous and getting stuck. Oh the times I had to rescue him from semi-dangerous situations and angry centaurs.

I sang him lullabies to sooth him into the realms of dreams and I comforted him when those dreams turned into nightmares, battling away the demons that stalked him in the dark. The dreaded shadow creature, the terrifying thundercloud and the worst of all, the monster under the bed who ate little centaurs as they slept, finding them to be a rare and most delicious delicacy. Of course it was his mother he went to for comfort but to me he came for safety, knowing that I would always give it.

He mastered the sword quicker than I had as a child, often besting me as we sparred and he was soon one of the finest warriors our herd had. I was so proud of him, prouder than I'd been of anything in my life. Although he'd never felt quite as comfortable with a bow he'd once admitted to me, he preferred the safety of a sword to the elegance of a bow and to be honest I do to. My son was exactly like me.

The arrival of my other sons didn't change him as I'd feared it would, he didn't become jealous of the younger ones, of how mine and my wife's attention always had to be on them now in case something happened to them. He accepted that he was now the big brother and was trusted to look after himself. Not that he always did of course. He now helped me battle away the demons of nightmares and saved the younger boys from the bullies, a thing that as their father it would embarrass them for me to do.

As he survived the terrible struggle that is the teenage years he fell in love for the first time, coming to me for counsel on how to go about courting the beautiful centaur girl. I gave him all the advice I could. Sadly she had her sights set on someone else and accidentally broke my sons heart. Thankfully a young ones heart is such a fickle thing and not weeks later he was in love with a different girl who he claimed to be even more stunning than the last. Unlike his first love his second love returned his feelings and they were together right up until his end, they'd been talking of marriage and beginning a family. They had been together for five years so it was not a strange thing to hear such serious discussions.

Being the brave warrior he was he was the first to stand by me when I pledged our allegiance to Prince Caspian and his cause.

Looking back I can't help but thinking it would have been better if I had raised my eldest to be not quite so brave and fearless, then maybe he wouldn't have been put in the situation that ended his life.

Looking back the battle was doomed to fail from the start, there were so many things that could go wrong and in the end did. But we'd all sworn an allegiance to Caspian and later to the High King Peter and so we obeyed their command.

We attacked.

We fought.

My son died.

Looking through the portcullis at him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I wanted to throw myself into it, to raise it somehow, to get him out. I was preparing to jump back over the gap the drawbridge had now caused and try to do something when his gaze met my eyes. His eyes told me two things,

"It's ok." and "I love you."

I wanted to scream as he turned away from me and faced his death with pride and honour, his sword raised. I didn't see him fall. High King Peter jumping and the drawbridge raising blocked my view and for that I can't help but be slightly grateful.

My son died a warrior and my heart broke.

I wept as we fled back to the caves, back to the safety we should never have left. I said nothing though; cast no blame on the young Prince of a King. It was not needed; I could see on their faces that they felt guilty enough for what had happened as it was. My tears stopped before we reached the caves but that was when my wife's began. I watched her face pale as she looked around what was left of our troops. I met her questioning gaze and the look my face must have said it all.

She began to cry and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

My sons were weeping too, we all wept together. We held each other as we wept, loosing ourselves in our grief. Our comrades patted our shoulders in condolence of our loss but said nothing, knowing obviously that there was nothing they could say to make us feel any better. We were watched by many as we wept and so many saw us pull ourselves together and separate, our emotions controlled.

"We must prepare for battle." My second son spoke first after we were calm.

"Miraz will be here soon." My third son seemed to almost growl, "Revenge comes marching towards us."

"Do not focus only on the revenge," I told them and my wife, "If you do mistakes will be made and I do not want to loose anyone else from my family. Fight in honour of your brothers memory, fight for him."

"For him." Spoken as one we drew our swords, holding them high. Around us our fellow centaurs did the same and some of our other comrades did the same. "For him!" The echoed us and I turned, looking around them.

"For everyone we've lost! Fight for them and for their honour! For them!"

We fought, brave and true.

We emerged victorious.

Peace fell on the land, we Narnians were free and my son would be forever remembered as one who had given his life for a better future.

**The End.**

A/N I originally wrote/posted this literally hours after I'd seen the second film. The bit with the portcullis almost had me in tears and that inspired me to write this.

 


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